March 2nd - Day 62

As most of you already know, the Boardman bike was stolen from the drive on Wednesday night.
When I realised it was gone I at first thought it was a joke. It quickly turned to rage, directed as much at myself as to the scum who took it. I had leaned the bike up against the garage door on the drive when I got back home from work instead of taking it in straight away. 
I won't be making that mistake again.
I spent Thursday in a kind of zombie-like state. Well, that's what it must have looked like from the outside, anyway. Inside I was a boiling mass of emotions and feelings. Hate and disbelief, sadness, self-pity, rage and then back to hatred again. As the day went on, after stumbling through tense lessons and a silent lunch break, I found that every feeling faded away inside me except for...despair. I have no idea of the amount of times I had retraced my steps of Wednesday night in my mind.
why, WHY, WHY didn't I just take the fucking bike inside when I got home from work!?


And of course, with the bike not being locked, the insurance company don't have to pay out a penny.
But it's not just the loss of the thing itself that hurts, not just the missing bike. It's the knowledge of what will come: the missing Sunday mornings in country lanes, missing the the sun in my eyes as I churn my way uphill, missing the greetings of other cyclists as we whir past each other, almost silently, in the empty lanes around Stratford Upon Avon. I'll miss meeting myself on that saddle when I'm halfway up a monster hill, seeing what I'm made of when legs and lungs are burning, in the middle of some awful calorie-deficient effort. I'll miss the hours spent inside my own mind, detached from the body in its rhythmic turning and pushing and pulling. 


I'll miss seeing what sort of a man I can be.


I'll miss my bike, my birthday present from my brother, my way to work, my thing of beauty silently waiting in the cold of the garage, my freedom, my passion.




But, what of the Birmingham to Oxford charity ride?
I made a decision this morning, or maybe last night I think. My wonderful Lucy and the girls looked after me when I shuffled in from posting up reward notices for my missing bike last night. Lucy was determined that I should continue being a road cyclist, the girls in their innocence are convinced that I'll find my bike again. All their positive belief and hugs made me have a sudden attack of hayfever... Then we walked to the Harvester for lots of ice cream and beer, and piggy-backs and belching!
So, when everyone was in bed and it was just me and a beer and crap TV I decided that I will still ride the charity event, for Lucy and the girls as much as for myself. I don't know what I'll ride it on yet, I just know that I'll do it. 
As from tomorrow, I'll continue the regular training blogs. All the riding will be on the mountain bike for now, obviously.


Incidently, today I cycled to work and didn't drink any beer. Just saying...